The Next Level
by Harmne
Summary: After Upgrade... Jake has changed, matured. Where should he go from here?
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Last time I looked these characters belonged to UPN. Not used for profit; entertainment only._

_A/N: This chapter re-written and re-posted 2-24-07._

_**Chapter 1**_

_Picks up immediately after "Upgrade" (the last episode) leaves off, with Jake in the parking garage where he'd just killed the female clan assassin, Shinji's sister…_

The sharp sound of his cell phone snapping shut was still echoing from the cement walls of the parking garage when Kyle burst through the stairwell door, gun in hand. Seeing he was too late – and that Jake hadn't needed his help, after all – he slowed, holstered his gun and continued to Jake's side. Once there, however, he hesitated, not sure how to ask what happened. Jake was just standing there, leaning silently against his car, carefully not looking at the woman's body lying right in front of him.

"When I answered Lou's call I caught her reflection in the window, running toward me," Jake said softly, his eyes still on the fallen woman. "She didn't make a sound."

"She killed five agents and another prisoner during her escape, and she would have killed you," Kyle said calmly even as he made note of the neat bullet hole dead-center just above the woman's eyes. "She would never have given up. You did what you had to do."

"I need to tell Shinji."

"His plane is still in the air. I'll have his handler break it to him when he lands, explain what happened."

"No, Kyle." Jake finally turned away from the woman, looking steadily into the hazel eyes of the man who'd become a friend. "_I_ killed his sister; _I_ need to tell him. Not some stranger."

Kyle returned the look for several long moments. He had an odd feeling of distortion for a moment, like looking through uneven glass. Something had changed in Jake. His eyes were flat and his face was blank. Slowly he nodded his head. "Okay, Jake. I'll get the contact number of his handler for you. He can call you as soon as he's got Shinji on the ground."

Behind him the elevator door opened, spilling out Lou, two armed agents -- and in the back, looking more than a little worried, was Dr. Diane Hughes clutching her JMD.

"Are you alright?" Lou asked as she swiftly crossed the concrete.

"I'm fine," Jake answered flatly. "I'm tired. And I'm going home. I'll give you my report in the morning." While Lou stared at him in speechless shock Jake turned back to Kyle. "Send me the number."

Then he frowned towards Dr. Hughes, and his tight control slipped slightly. "I'm _fine_. Stop monitoring me!" He scowled at the JMD and it crackled with static briefly before the 'battery low' warning beeped and the device went dead. Diane looked up at him in indignant surprise but he was already turning away, sliding into his car.

Lou, Kyle, and Diane stood silently watching as Jake drove away. Behind them more people emerged from the stairwell and elevator – more armed agents, people to remove the body, people to clean. After several minutes Lou spoke.

"Kyle, what just happened here? What did I just see?"

"A seasoned agent that just took down a highly skilled assassin single-handedly with a single shot," Kyle said softly, carefully.

"Dr. Hughes… How did the monitor look?"

"Um," For a moment Diane looked down at the blank screen of the modified PDA. "His levels were all normal with the exception of a single momentary spike in his heartbeat just before we heard the shot." She fidgeted with the dead PDA, pressing the power button experimentally. "Everything was _normal.._." she trailed off into a whisper.

_She sounds like she's in shock_, Kyle thought to himself. He watched her hands flutter over the dark screen, absently noting that she wore clear nail polish and there was a band-aid on her thumb.

"It's late, Dr. Hughes," he said quietly. "Why don't you go home, try to get some sleep. You'll need to check Jake in the morning."

Diane gave a hesitant, absent nod and turned back to the elevator.

Kyle turned back to Lou.

"We'll have to tell the boy," she said.

"It's covered."

She sighed and looked around the nearly-empty garage. "Call it a night, Agent Duarte. Things may be rocky in the morning and I'll need you fresh. There's nothing left here but mop-up, and someone else can handle it."

Kyle nodded and turned, moving away toward his own car. Outwardly he was calm but inside his mind was spinning. Just before he reached his car he remembered his promise and made the call to have Shinji's contact number sent to Jake's phone. Then once again deep thoughts swirled through his mind as he drove slowly out of the garage.

j+d

Diane walked into the lab and just stopped, blinking, as if she wasn't sure why she was there. She looked down at the dead JMD for a full minute before shaking her head and trying to get her thoughts together.

She gathered her things with the mindless ease of long habit – she tucked her laptop and the JMD into her padded messenger bag, locked up her files and laid the keys on the counter by the bag. Then she slipped off her lab coat, taking two tries to get it to stay on the coat tree. She draped her coat and scarf over her arm and picked up her purse, messenger bag, and keys. It was awkward to juggle everything, but her slim-fitting slacks had no pockets.

Her head was aching, and as she waited for the elevator she shifted her load trying to free a hand to rub her temple. She gave up when the elevator dinged.

Her little car was in the south garage, far from the crowd still gathered in the east section. She left without fanfare, heading home. But somewhere in the next few miles she changed her mind, and changed her route.

j+d

Jake was sitting on the edge of the loveseat in front of the TV. An old black and white movie was on the screen but the sound was muted. He was on the phone with Shinji, trying to break the news gently, trying to explain, with his tie pulled askew and his jacket and gun abandoned on the far side of the room. He was hunched forward, elbows on his knees, with one hand holding the phone to his ear and the other holding his head.

"I wish there had been another way, Shinji," he said softly. "It happened too fast. I didn't want to kill her…I didn't want this to happen."

Shinji was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke his voice was soft. "There was nothing else you could have done, Agent Foley. She despised me for being weak, but she was my sister and I loved her. But I also know she would never have stopped trying to kill you, and she would have killed anyone else who got in her way. You gave her the honorable death she would have wanted. Now, I hope, she is at peace."

"I hope so, too." Jake was having a little trouble controlling his voice. He'd spent hours with Shinji, and despite everything he'd felt and odd attachment. He'd hoped they could be friends, someday.

A soft knock caught Jake's attention and he got up, checked the peephole, and opened the door to a pale Diane Hughes. He stepped back silently, turning away but leaving the door open. She stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind her.

Shinji continued. "I harbor no ill will toward you. My sister chose her path; you did what you had to do. You gave me a new life when others would have locked me away. My life is still yours for the asking."

"All I ask is that you make the most of your new life. Good luck, Shinji. I hope that someday I'll be able to visit you as a friend."

"I would like that. Goodbye, Jake."

Jake ended the call and hesitated before he flipped the phone shut. A moment later, without warning, he hurled it across the room to smash against the bedroom door. Diane jumped, startled, as the phone flew apart but immediately turned back to Jake. He had both hands in his hair and an anguished look on his face. The control he'd held so tightly was breaking.

"Jake," she cried softly, going to him. He reached for her as the first sob tore from his throat and fell to his knees at her feet. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, cradling his head against her as he cried. Tears ran silently down her own cheeks as she gave him what she could, curling around him protectively, stroking his back, his hair, pressing kisses into the top of his head…

_TBC…_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: Characters property of UPN (At least, the last I heard!) and not used for profit. **_

_A/N: I love this show and wish we could get it back on the air… Bear with me when I'm slow, I can see things playing out in my head but they don't always cooperate when I'm trying to get it written down, and I really want to keep everyone in character (the way I interpret them, anyway!) Suggestions are always welcome. Hope you enjoy! _

_**Chapter 2**_

As the first storm of anguish passed Jake slid down to sit on the floor, pulling Diane with him and into his lap. A few minutes later he realized she was crying, too, whispering to him as they rocked together for comfort.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she was whispering, and her cheeks were wet with tears.

"Shh, Diane, don't cry. I'm sorry. It's okay. Everything is going to be fine," he found himself trying to reassure her, cradling her close. "I guess I came a little unglued…too much happened too fast, you know? But I'm okay now. I'm fine. We'll be fine."

She'd gone quiet in his arms. Her tears had stopped but her arms were still holding him tight. Jake cupped one hand around her head and tilted her face up, his thumb gently brushing the last of the tears from her cheek.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you. And I didn't break your JMD, I promise. I just drained the battery. It'll be fine when it's charged."

"I don't care about that. That's not why I came," she whispered.

Jake smiled slightly. "Worried about me?" he questioned softly, and he wasn't surprised when her eyes welled with tears again.

"Not worried, exactly," she hedged, trying to return his smile. "I just-- I wanted to be here. I knew you'd be, um, upset. You _had_ to kill her, Jake, and I know how much you hated that. I wanted to be here, for you."

"You always have been. Every time I've needed you - even when I didn't know it at the time - you've always been here for me." He pulled her closer for a moment and pressed his lips against her forehead. He fought the surge of emotions inside him, pushing them back, tamping them down. It had taken him long enough to figure out how he felt about her; he could wait a little longer to say it out loud. Besides, he was pretty sure tonight wasn't the best time to tell her he loved her. She wouldn't believe him. Not yet. Too many traumatic things had happened in the past few weeks; she'd think he was just reacting to the stress.

The skin of her forehead felt very warm against his lips. Several degrees over normal, he was pretty sure. "Are you okay?" he asked, drawing back to look into her face again, searching.

"Yes. Well, I have a headache, but…"

And here he was holding her on the floor.

He got to his feet with her still in his arms and carried her over to his bed, laying her down carefully over her protests. "Have you taken anything? I've got some pain relievers."

She rubbed her forehead, dislodging her glasses. "No, actually, I haven't yet. I probably should just go home. I think I'm coming down with a cold or something – I just feel a little funny."

Jake sat down on the bed next to her, preventing her from sitting up. "Stay here tonight and let me take care of you for a change. I'm pretty sure I've got…" His voice trailed off. He'd picked up her hand as he spoke, and the feel of a band-aid triggered a memory, slightly fuzzy because it was while he was drugged in the burn tank and watching Diane through the security cameras…She'd cut herself on a broken slide. Why was that important? It was in the lab…

"Diane," he said urgently, his hand tightening around hers. "You cut your hand on a broken slide. When I was in the burn tank, and you were in the lab. You dropped a slide, and when you picked up the pieces you cut yourself – I saw the blood."

She frowned at him, confused by the sudden change of subject, then her eyes went wide. "What do you mean you saw blood? You were all the way over—in the burn tank—how could you have seen me?"

"I was looking for you through the security cameras."

"You _did_ make me coffee!" she exclaimed, smiling. Her smile faded, though, when Jake's expression remained serious.

"What was on the slide, Diane," he prompted again, his voice sounding urgent.

All at once the color left her face. If she hadn't already been lying down Jake thought she might have fainted.

"Nanites. Oh, god, Jake. Mostly it was a morphine solution, but there were a few nanites too so I could see how they were affected. I was careless… What if I'm infected? Oh no…!"

"Diane, it's okay!"

"I'm dead. I'm _dead_! If the nanites don't kill me, Lou will! She's still angry about-- about-- She'll think I did it on purpose!" Now she was starting to hyperventilate.

"You're not going to die, Diane! Calm down!"

"But Jake, you're the only living thing that's survived this long with nanites! And we _still_ don't know why!"

"Don't panic, please. It's scary, I know, but we'll get through this, I swear. I'm right here and I'll do anything, _anything_ to help, but we have to think. We have to stay calm and work together. Please, Diane. I need you."

Her grip on his hand was almost painful but she gamely made the effort to get control of herself and control her breathing. Jake made encouraging noises, and smiled at her as she calmed. "That's my girl. Now, you said there were a few nanites. How many?"

"Five, seven maybe. I didn't need very many – I only needed to see if the morphine affected them, and how. I was trying to figure out why you weren't healing."

"Okay. So if any got in your cut it couldn't have been more than seven at the most. Were they the same…um…generation as my nanites?"

"Yes."

"Okay." Jake was thinking fast, trying to get some kind of handle on the facts. "That's good. And how fast do the nanites replicate?"

"They duplicate themselves about every 12 hours. There is some attrition as the older ones break down. Of course once they're integrated into your system, if you sustain damage the replication rate can be increased..."

"It's been how long? A week?"

"Since I was cut? Um… It was afternoon when I was in the lab, then there was the mess with the laser and we got you off the morphine. You were healed by morning, and we ran a few tests but they called you so you could go with Kyle… Four days? No, five days plus a few hours."

"Okay. If you managed to get five nanites in the cut - which is unlikely – then there would be roughly 5100 by now."

Diane sighed, looking a little less worried. "That's not even enough for the JMD to pick up. The liquid that infected you was extremely concentrated – about 25,000 per cubic milliliter. I've estimated you probably got close to that when you were cut. And you started feeling the effects, what, about 12 hours later?"

"Something close to that. After the accident it took the rest of the day to get things cleared up so that I could leave, and by the time I got home I felt sick. The next morning I started noticing…effects. And you noticed my arm."

"By the time I got you to the lab and under the monitors they'd just begun integrating to your nerves, so that was more like twenty-four hours, maybe a little more," Diane put in.

"Ok, the JMD won't be able to pick them up yet…how about the monitoring program on your laptop?"

"It might." She started to sit up. "My computer's in my car—"

Jake was across the room and back before she could finish, holding his own computer. "I've got it on here."

For a long heartbeat she gaped, then she glared at him. "You stole that, too?! I still can't believe you took that upgrade code without telling me. Jake, you could have died!" 

He winced. "I know, but I didn't. And I already promised not to do it again." He pulled up the program and they both shifted so they could both read the screen. "Okay, I haven't had time to change anything so it's still set up for the original nanite configuration. Since I did the upgrade I don't think it will pick me up, will it?"

"I don't think so. The JMD did, but I designed it to track any changes in your nanites so it followed along."

They watched as the computer said 'searching…', but after several minutes it came up blank.

"That didn't help," Diane muttered, slumping.

"Okay, maybe I can change the program parameters to make it more sensitive…" He trailed off and turned to look at her, a speculative look on his face. Closing the screen, Jake put the computer on the nightstand and reached for Diane's hand. "I have an idea," he said. He peeled the band-aid from her skin and they both looked at the small cut. It was there, but barely. It had healed down to a thin pink line.

"They stayed in place to heal the wound," Diane observed thoughtfully.

"Does that mean they won't try to spread and integrate until they're done?" Jake asked, concentrating.

"Maybe. Injuries are priority – that's part of their programming. If they find damage they're designed to put all their effort into repair, and replication is secondary."

"Then if the nanites got sidetracked by healing your cut, maybe that buys us a little more time. Gives us a window…" Jake fell silent, absently stroking Diane's hand as he seemed to be thinking hard. Diane waited, for some reason soothed by his presence. After a few minutes he spoke again. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"I think… I think I can alter the programming in the nanites. Slow their replication time, make them dormant, maybe even to the point that they'll shut down and break up, be flushed out of your system."

For several long heartbeats Diane just stared at him, then she frowned. "That's why you copied my monitoring program. Jake, you promised you wouldn't play with your—"

"And I won't," he said firmly, "but I do want to study the code and see if I can find any room for improvements."

Diane gave the idea some serious thought. "I don't have the original programming code--" she began, but again Jake cut her off.

"I know where it is."

She gave him a shocked look, and he grinned.

"I was curious— After I found out what had happened to me, found out about the nanite project, I did some snooping. I had some practice breaking into encrypted files before - and I'll deny I said that if you tell anyone. It was a while and a little practice with the nanites before I could get into the project's encrypted storage banks, and the program itself is stored on a removable disk, but someone in the programming department was careless a while back and I was able to copy it into a dummy file. I can get it."

"From here?"

"From anywhere. I did my own encryption, and put it somewhere only I know to look."

Diane gave him a long look, then her eyes widened and seemed to melt backward until her back hit the headboard. She looked stricken.

"You were planning… for when you… to disappear. You let Kyle's escape ticket out go to the prince…" She trailed off incoherently as if overwhelmed.

"Yeah," he admitted warily. "I wasn't going to tell anyone. And I was really hoping I'll never need it, never have to… but, you know…just in case."

He watched as emotions chased across her face, though her eyes; surprise, dismay, betrayal, worry, and finally determination. She met his eyes and gave him a determined if shaky smile.

"I won't say anything, to anyone, if you'll promise me you won't leave w-without telling me goodbye." Her breath caught a little at the last.

"I promise," he whispered, and pulled her into a hug.

She hugged him back tightly for several long minutes, then pushed back, drawing in a deep breath and blowing it out. "Well. If 50,000 is the magic number that gives us at least eighteen hours to do something. Let's get busy."

She started to move, expecting Jake to get up and let her off the bed. He didn't move.

"How about you take something for your headache and lay down for a little bit? I've got to retrieve the code and take a look at the program and it may take a while. I'll wake you as soon as I have anything, I promise." She looked reluctant, and he pushed. "You'll think much clearer when you're rid of the pain. Trust me."

She sighed and gave in. "You're probably right. I need to, um…" she broke off shyly and he smiled at her.

"The pain relievers are in the medicine cabinet," he said, helping her off the bed. She was missing a shoe, he noticed, and realized they were both still in their work clothes. She wouldn't be very comfortable sleeping in her slacks and fitted blouse. "Diane? If you want to change, there are t-shirts and shorts and pajama pants in the right-hand dresser drawers—help yourself, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks."

Jake picked up the computer and pretended not to watch as Diane shyly opened the drawers and searched gingerly through the contents. She pulled out a pair of patterned pajama pants with a drawstring and a t-shirt that matched the blue in the print, then hurried into the bathroom and closed the door. He sighed, quickly changed his own clothes, and headed for his desk to get started.

_TBC…_


End file.
